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〖 chapter seven⋆the musical 〗
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"Columbia will be great for you," his dad had promised him many times, "Hell, I bet you'll even find yourself a nice girl to settle down with right away – it's what happened with your mother and I."
There was a chuckle at the end as he thought about those times. A shake of the head and a small smile, youthful love found right where he chose to study not knowing he would fall in love. His dad made it sound so easy; go to the college that his dad had picked, find someone nice (a nice girl, it couldn't just be anyone), start life, get married, and start a family.
He could picture all of it; the wedding in a chapel (because it would be with his parents) and after a year of marriage, under the constant firing of questions from both their parents, they would be pressured into having a child even though it might not be the right time. Everything would be so pressured, so forced, and finally, years down the line, everything would explode. Yelling would begin because they were so unhappy, all the dreams they had when they first got together vanished with marriage and children and being tied down. They would divorce, his parents would be disappointed, but be would have his kids.
The kids he didn't want; the kids he had been pressured into having.
But at least he would be rid of the wife he never wanted, but that sounds horrible. He sounded like a terrible person for even thinking that he felt awful, trying awful, but he didn't want that. And then, maybe then, lost and confused because he finally was given this freedom, he would find himself at a bar and maybe then – maybe then – he could take some nameless man home and feel alright. Not forced or pressured but him.
And he thought of Peter, as cliché as he sounded. He thought of the boy who didn't believe that the kiss was a terrible mistake that he never should've made. He thought of the boy who was hurt and disappointed by him, who didn't like his smoking and came in to get ice cream every Tuesday and Thursday, sometimes on the weekend of he was lucky. The boy who rambled on and on about scientific theories that he could never keep up with or understand, who spoke so highly of his internship even though he probably really only got coffee for people.
The joy this boy had, this unending happiness and freedom. There was no life plan for Peter; he could simply do whatever he wanted and it would be okay. There wasn't an expectation for him to go to a specific college and settle down with a specific person, but he had that. And he felt so terribly envious of Peter.
Because he could never just do what he wanted, he was bound to goals that his dad wanted. He was bound by expectations and plans set for him before he was born. And he could do nothing except do as told, be the perfect boy – the perfect son.
